


Somebody Saved you

by CALLEN37



Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-20
Packaged: 2018-01-16 02:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1328824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CALLEN37/pseuds/CALLEN37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for NCIS:LA Magazines Callen's Corner Challenge #4. Set after ep. 100, Callen goes looking for his past, can Sam save him from himself and the things he might learn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Callen put the phone down. Hetty didn't like it, but he didn't care. After the last case he needed time off.

He sat back and re-watched the film footage of his father, sister and himself as a child. Every time he saw himself in his father's arms he swallowed a lump in his throat, he had been loved…not for long, five small, miniscule years. But for that amount of time he had been a normal child with a normal loving family.

Then it had all gone wrong.

He had a clearer picture now than when he had been overwhelmed with images and memories on that beach by the black sea in Romania.

Then it had been feelings, images, and an uncontrollable surge of memories that ended in his attempted destruction of the Comescu family.

He had come back sitting on the plane with Hetty, holding her hand the whole way as the doctors kept her stable until she was home and rushed to hospital. He had kept his faith with her even though she had eventually revealed that she had in fact known his mother, she had known her name and kept it to herself for years.

Clara Callen, a name and a photograph, enough to soothe him, just enough to keep him there; Clara was dead after all he wouldn't go chasing after a ghost.

But now…now he knew, Nikita Alexsandr Reznikov. It was a name…there was no body, no proof of death, it was a lead. The biggest lead to his past and his name that he'd ever had, and she wanted him back at work?

He packed the cine-film away and placed it carefully in the box on his mantel…he thought for a second and then picked up the box and walked to the room he had occupied in '83, he opened the wardrobe and lifted up a loose floorboard and gently with reverence, wrapping the box in a piece of cloth, he hid it.

He rolled up his bedroll, packed some clothes in his bag and walked into the kitchen. He finished the coffee he'd left on the counter; washed up and tidied away his cup took one more look around and left.

* * *

Sam got up early and he went to Callen's to pick him up.

The house looked deserted, but the house always looked deserted so that wasn't unusual, the fact that the houses lone occupant wasn't pacing waiting for him, or standing at the doorway holding a coffee out for his partner was unusual.

He knocked and waited.

No answer.

He looked through the window into the lounge; nothing looked misplaced…except for one thing…The box was gone.

An uneasy feeling settled in Sam's gut.

"Hetty?" he said after dialing a number into his cell phone.

"Mr. Hanna, it's very early for you to be calling, do you have a problem?" Hetty asked.

"Callen, is he there?" he asked

Hetty looked surprised, although thankfully Sam could not hear it in her voice, "Mr. Callen has requested a leave of absence, he asked for a few days to sort his affairs out, I assumed that he needed some time to sort through all the photographic evidence from the Reinhardt case, have you tried his home?" she asked.

"I'm here now, he didn't tell me…Hetty I'm worried, he's gone, from what I can see without breaking in, his bedroll is gone and his bag." Sam said.

"I'm sure he's just gone for a change of scenery," Hetty reasoned, after all Callen wouldn't leave without talking to her first.

"The box is gone." Sam said simply.

That coming from Sam was a game changer.

"I will have Mr. Beale track him down, head to Ops Sam, we will find him and then maybe you can go and back him up, or bring him back as the case may be." She said.

Sam sighed as he closed the phone, "G…What are you up to this time?" he asked himself.

* * *

Callen dropped his bag to the floor as he took a seat in Arkady's dining room. Arkady looked over at his young friend. "I hear you had some more information about your father," he said handing Callen a plate of breakfast.

Callen nodded "I have a name," he said as he started eating.

Arkady smiled, "I know, we talked yesterday have you come to ask me more questions?" he asked.

"Nikita Alexsandr Reznikov…do you know him?" he asked his fork full of eggs poised halfway to his mouth waiting for the answer.

Arkady took a sip of his tea to calm his nerves, he was Nikita's son? He hadn't expected that direct a question; this was not how they worked.

"I have heard the name," he admitted. "I told you about him being in the KGB last night, how he was a major."

"Tell me more?" Callen asked eating some more.

Now Arkady knew the name he could see it, yes he was definitely Nikita's son. The way he ate and still managed to ask questions, Reznikov was not a name he had expected to hear ever again. He looked at the young man and smiled.

"It is a name from another place, a long time ago." Arkady started. "I knew Nikita as a child; he was older than me, five years older to be exact. He was an inquisitive mind, he never believed the rhetoric the Kremlin sent out, and he signed up for the army despite his misgivings hoping he could change things from within. I was 24 when I last saw him." He admitted.

"Do you know what happened to him?" Callen asked.

"I told you all I knew last night, I knew he married a Roma girl, and they had children, I did not know what happened to him after he was captured and sent to Siberia, his family were told he was dead." Arkady said.

"He has family? A mother, father, maybe a brother or sister…cousins?" Callen asked hopefully.

"His family disowned him when he married your mother, I do not know exactly where they are right now." Arkady said.

"But could you find out, maybe they have heard from him? Maybe they would want to know me?" he didn't want to sound needy but he needed to know.

"I could try; I haven't spoken to…people there in years." Arkady said watching him closely.

"Please." Callen said.

"That will be 2 you owe me." Arkady said with a wavering smile.

"I will owe you a lot more if this works." Callen said.

He stood up, "This is my number now, I'm heading to Russia tonight, Call me if you have any information." He stood up and walked out.

Arkady stood sadly watching him go. He knew that if Callen was as headstrong as his father this was not going to be good.

Arkady pulled a picture out of his wallet of himself and what looked like a younger version of Callen, "Ah moy brat, what is your son getting into this time." He said.

When he had said to Callen two days ago that he had never had anyone introduce themselves to him as their father, he was telling the truth, last time he'd seen Clara, Nikita, Amy and Callen, they had been in the garden of Nikita's small home. It had been just after Callen's first birthday and contrary to what everyone thought; Arkady had been the person behind the camera, filming his brother, his nephew and his niece, while Clara was making his first birthday cake.

It had been Arkady's roll of film that Reinhardt had gotten his hands on.

It had been the week before the KGB had discovered Clara's connection to the CIA and Nikita had smuggled his family out of Russia and into Romania, Arkady had left his brother the film as a reminder of his children.

He had never expected to see it again, and yet there was the blond detective handing the packet with his handwriting on it to the diminutive little pixie to give to his nephew, that's when it had hit him. The reason he liked Callen so much was because he reminded him so much of his big brother.

* * *

Callen stood at the airport having called in a favor with Trent Kort and gotten himself a lift on a black ops flight.

"Callen?" Agent Pat Shale called as he walked towards the man he'd been asked to pick up, "Good God, man…I haven't seen you in years, how are you doing." He asked.

Callen smiled at the older heavy set man, "Shale? Wow, you still working for this outfit?" he grinned shaking the man's hand.

"Yeah, up for retirement soon, I hear your hitching a ride, just you or you got a partner?" he asked.

Callen shook his head, "This is strictly personal, so no partner on this one," he admitted.

Shale looked surprised, he had heard that Callen had a partner that kept him on the straight and narrow now, and he was pleased, the last thing the boy needed was to be even more alone than he already was.

"Ok so you got a travel docket signed by your boss?" he asked.

Callen shook his head, "You should have the paperwork there, calling in a favor from Kort." He said.

Shale looked through the file in his hands, "Yeah I got it, welcome aboard the rust bucket, find a pew, strap yourself in and hold on tight." He grinned.

"You're not flying are you?" he asked worried.

Shale grinned, "Nope… Slocomb is flying."

Callen turned green and reached into his bag for a bottle of Dramamine. "He flies worse than Kensi drives." He gulped.

Shale shrugged and settled into a seat, "Ya gets what ya pay for Callen, you know that." He laughed and did up his seatbelt extra tight.

The radio crackled and an older Irish voice came over the speaker, "Ok people who are not really here, hang on tight, we had a five minute window to get the hell outta here." He laughed and started the engines.

"Oh Callen?" Shale said as they took off.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"You do know we are only dropping you off…so you'll need that parachute next to you." He informed him.

"Great!" Callen rolled his eyes and made a mental note to hit Kort next time he was within arm's reach.

* * *

Pulling in the parachute, he stashed it under a bush as he looked around him. He was by his calculations about four clicks from Moscow; he turned in the direction of the faint lights from the city and started walking.

He knew where to start, he had to meet and ex-KGB operative, who it was hoped had a copy of his father's files from the old days. He had a name and a place, and three hours to get there.

He caught a ride with an early morning produce van and got off at Tverskaya Street and went to stand outside the Café Russe.

He walked past the café twice, and leant against a doorway with a good view of the building, a dark van pulled up and spoke to a man inside and watched as the van drove off. He stood waiting and Callen decided to go over to him.

"Toli Gorev?" he asked.

The man nodded, "You are the man called Callen?" he asked in reply.

"I am." He said, "You have something for me?" he asked.

The man looked around, "Inside."

He opened the door and Callen followed him inside, the café was small and dark at the back, an area set aside for smoking patrons and Toli ordered something to eat. Callen followed suit, not knowing when he would be eating again.

Toli broke some dark rye bread and dipped it in his drink, "This is good, you try." He said gesturing to Callen's meal.

Callen nodded and ate watching Toli.

"So why you want to know about Reznikov, his file was buried." The man said

"Just looking for him." Callen said feeling tired.

"He was last seen in Moscow in 1974, he was sent to a labor camp in Siberia, there are a few reports of him after that in here, but not much, I am not sure it will help." Toli told him, he looked at Callen, he looked too young to be interested in Reznikov, and mostly people looking for him were a lot older.

"Anything about his family, I need to see that file." he said taking another drink to quench his thirst.

Callen rubbed the back of his neck, feeling tired, he tried shaking his head, although he thought maybe it was the smoke filled atmosphere.

Toli smiled as Callen reached for the file, "I am sorry Mr. Callen, but that file is not going to be seen by you, I have a few questions, why are you using the name Callen and who are you working for really?"

"I…I…" Callen slumped forward as the drug in his system took effect.

In another corner a one eyed man stood up without seemingly paying attention and walked out of the café into the night air, he walked past the dark van, leaning against it as he seemed to adjust his shoe and he walked on.

Toli took his phone out of his pocket. "We have the man looking into Reznikov, what do you want us to do with him?" he asked.

A voice on the other end replied, "Bring him to the outer district. We need to find out who he is working for, what information he has and how he knew the name Callen."

Toli nodded, "I will bring him Nikita, we will contact you when we arrive." He said, He nodded to the Patron who helped lift Callen's unconscious body and his bags and carried him to the van out the back and roughly threw him in.

"He will pay you well for this." Toli said to the patron.

* * *

Hetty sat at her desk as the phone rang, it was late in the evening and she had spent all day trying to find out where Callen was.

"Lange." She said as she picked up the receiver.

"Hello Hetty." A familiar voice came down the end of the phone.

She sighed, "Mr. Kort, to what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your call."

"You have an operation going on in Russia?" Kort asked.

"No, why?" she asked him.

"Your Mr. Callen is mixing in some dubious circles, he's just been picked up by the Gorev crime family, they are working under contract for a man, I can't say his name all I know is he's ex-KGB and if people ask about him, they disappear." He told her.

Hetty placed her hand flat on her desk trying to calm herself, "No!"

"I have a tracker on the van that took him, but I don't think I am going to be able to get him out," Kort said.

Hetty nodded, then realizing she couldn't be seen she said, "I will deal with it, Thank you Mr. Kort."

She put the phone down to find Sam standing the other side of the door waiting for her to finish.

"Where is he Hetty?"

"Moscow, I do not know why, but he has been taken by the Gorev crime family."

"Get me a flight, get Nell to backstop me." Sam said.

"Mr. Hanna this was not an NCIS sanctioned operation." Hetty said sternly she was as worried as Sam was about him, but she couldn't authorize this.

"Hetty!" he argued. "We left for you, Callen quit to follow you to Poland."

"Yes and you saw how well that worked." She snapped. "Mr. Hanna," she softened, "With Ms Blye in the field, we are already two men down.

"Deeks can handle what we have here right now, it's just cold cases." He said.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hanna; I cannot authorize a trip to Moscow, the paperwork alone…" She sighed as Sam slammed his badge on the table followed by his gun.

"He did it for you." Sam said and walked past an astonished Deeks.

"Hetty?" Deeks asked.

"Oh bugger," Hetty cursed and picked up the phone. "Miss Jones, either you or Mr. Beale will be contacted by Mr. Hanna to backstop him for a trip to Russia, this trip is off the books and I do not know about it, do I make myself clear?" she asked.

"Of course," Nell said.

"That being said give him all the help he needs." She advised.

She turned to Deeks, "Mr. Deeks, for now you are on cold cases, I need at least one member of my team here."

"Where are Sam and Callen?" Deeks asked.

"Mr. Callen has gone on Vacation and Mr. Hanna has gone to….assist him." She said, picking up Sam's badge and locking it, for the second time since it was issued in her top drawer.

* * *

Callen woke up, the pain in his arms was intense and he was cold, very very cold. He looked up and noticed that there was a hole in the roof of the rundown warehouse he was in. He was naked from the waist up and shivering as freezing water dripped on him and the sub-zero air whipped around him.

He tried to cough but the position he was in made it impossible for him to do so.

He hung his head, he had failed.

He had followed all the clues given him and in his haste to find his father he had walked, it seemed into the arms of his father's enemies.

He could feel his body succumbing to hyperthermia and no one knew where he was. "Stupid." He admonished himself.

"Ah…so you are American," a man in a warm parker coat sitting in the dark spoke to him. "Who are you?"

"No one." Callen answered.

"Why are you looking for the files on Reznikov, are you Comescu?" the voice asked.

"No!" Callen spat.

"WHO ARE YOU?" The voice demanded again.

"It doesn't matter who I am, I was no threat to you." Callen replied.

"You are looking into things that do not concern you, you must keep out, go back to America." The voice said and nodded another man in the room.

He jolted as the other man turned a switch and Callen jolted as electricity flowed through his body for a second.

A second was all that was needed, the switch was turned off and he found himself gasping for air.

His world turned black and Callen lifted his head as if in prayer and said one word.

"Sam!" a single tear tracked down his face and then he passed out.

 


	2. Chapter 2

He watched as the American was interrogated, his men usually got an answer out of their hostage straight away, they would find out who was chasing him, usually a Comescu and he would dispatch them, and sometimes it was a rogue KGB agent. Despite the fact the KGB had officially been disbanded, there were still people out to collect the bounty on his head.

He looked at the man hanging there, the despair in his face gnawing on his soul.

The man had been hanging there for three days and despite his best effort hadn't told him anything, he was strong this one.

"Tell me, what is your name?" He asked for what had to be the thirtieth time.

"Callen…my name is Callen."

"I don't believe you, you were told to use that name, someone told you."

The man on the hook shook with silent sobs, "My name is Callen."

"What is your first name?" He asked.

"Callen…it's just Callen." He insisted.

"Why are you looking for Reznikov?" he asked. Even he was tired, three days going around and around in circles but still the same reply.

"I need information….I need to know." Callen croaked his throat dry with the effort he had expended just trying to stay alive.

"What do you need to know?"

"Just…need to know…please…" Callen begged as darkness enveloped him again.

* * *

Nikita stood up and walking into the warm office area and took his coat off.

"I don't get it Sergei, he isn't like the others he's stubborn," he said picking up a glass of Vodka to warm himself with.

"He's been trained well Nikita, he's spoken in Russian, Romanian and American since he's been here. I cannot tell if he is Comescu, KGB or CIA."

"And the name…" Nikita said, his heart had broken at the name, "They knew, I hid my children so well, and they died, both buried under false names, He's the right age, and the eyes…my God, they are so…so…like mine…but he is dead, they obviously didn't know that."

He stood up suddenly angry, "This is a new tactic, I have to find out who he works for so I can send him back and they'll know to stop looking." He snarled.

Sergei sat next to his friend. "We did the right thing, saving those people you do know that?" he told him.

Nikita looked sad, as he was wont to do when talking about his family. "We did, and I was right to fall in love with Clara, but I lost so much and even now, nearly 40 years later they are still trying to punish me."

Sergei gave his friend a weak smile. "You saved hundreds of lives Nikita, you should be proud."

Nikita laughed, "Hundreds except the three that meant the most to me, the Comescu's killed my Clara, the CIA let her down because she had married me, you took my children to America and my daughter died at 11, and my son…my son disappeared in the system, we never found him. Reinhardt promised to stay in touch, but I lost contact with him, maybe this is my punishment, God has sent this Agent to make me pay for the sins of my past." He let a sob escape from his throat. "Do you think there is a chance?" he shook his head to dispel the notion.

He got up and looked out the window at the shivering agent.

"Cut him down." He said. "I can't do this anymore."

Sergei looked at the young man, "Maybe he'll talk more when he's warm."

Sergei hauled Callen into the warm room, he was blue and shaking. There was a large red welt around his torso where a copper wire had been wound.

They laid him down on the bed and covered the convulsing body with a blanket, "You are a lucky one, he wants to send you back to your people and you can tell them to stop chasing him."

"I…I…have n…no…p…people…" Callen stammered his teeth chattering.

"Give it up kid, we know you are not who you say you are, if you were Reznikov's son you'd know your name…You didn't even get that information." Sergei snarled. "Just be glad you're alive, leave him alone."

"Don't know my name….never got told…." Callen couldn't stop the tears coming down his cheek, "only a letter…just G…no name…not worth a name…" he passed out.

Reznikov moved out of the shadows and looked at him.

"He looks so much like her, he must have been hand picked and well trained," he shook his head resisting the urge to touch his face.

Sergei moved to the computer, "I think I will see what there is on this G. Callen with no name; we will show him his cover has been blown."

* * *

Sam walked up to the Café Russe where Callen had last been seen, he had followed every lead Nell had sent his way and all he had now was a name, Toli Gorev.

Toli walked into the Café and as usual had his breakfast, Sam watched him and waited until he had passed an envelope off to the proprietor, and then he followed him as he left.

He followed Toli around the corner and pinned him against the wall, "You kidnapped a man, three days ago, where did you take him?" Sam snapped holding his gun to the man's face, "I wouldn't move if I were you, I got this on the black market, they are liable to go wrong." He warned.

"He your friend?" Toli asked.

"Just tell me where you took him." Sam ordered.

"Go home, he was looking into something dangerous, if he was your friend, go home and forget about him, he's dead." Toli told Sam.

"Tell me!" Sam growled pointing the gun in the man's face.

"Warehouse district 5, I...I'll show you…" Toli shivered at the look in this man's face, he was determined to find his friend or die, that much was obvious and he was willing to kill anyone in the way."

Sam grunted and grabbed Toli's arm and pushed him into his van, "Drive." Sam snapped.

Toli nodded.

They drove for an hour until they reached a remote group of warehouses.

"He's in there." He said pointing to the block.

"Where…?" Sam asked.

"This is as far as I go, you don't mess with Sergei, he will kill you."

"I will kill you if you don't help me find my friend." Sam snapped.

Toli shook with fear opened the door and rolled out of the van onto the road and ran up the street away from the man.

Sam sighed and picked up his phone, "Nell, Sam. I think I've found him." He said.

"Then you're going to need help…wait, there's someone coming," she told him, "Play nicely and let him help, if you find Callen he'll get you both out of the country." She said.

"Who?" Sam asked confused.

"Me." A British sounding accent came from behind him, Sam turned to see Trent Kort standing there.

"Kort…you worked with Callen right?" Sam asked having met the man twice which in his opinion was two times too much.

"I got Callen into the country; I suppose it's up to me to save his ass again." Kort reasoned.

"He's my partner, I'll help him, and you can just get us out of the country."

"If he's alive." Kort sighed.

"He's alive, he's my partner, and I'd know if he's dead." Sam insisted.

"If he's with the people I think he is you may not be able to prove he is alive, there's no guarantee he's in there," Kort warned Sam.

* * *

They parked the van around the corner and headed to the warehouse.

Pulling their guns and entering the building they quickly discovered it was empty, they opened a door into a freezing room and Sam stopped at the sight that greeted him.

Chains with shackles on that were hanging from a beam running across the room, a hole in the ceiling where flakes of snow and dripping icicles hung down over the area with the shackles. But what really made Sam's blood run cold was the coil of copper wire and the battery it was attached too.

"They tortured him." He said, he looked at the mess on the floor underneath and shuddered; now he didn't know if he was alive or dead.

"I haven't found a body, but it looks like they left recently. Maybe your perky little analyst has some information for you." Kort offered.

"I'll call her, any other clues as to where they are?" Sam asked.

Kort shook his head, "Nope, but with Reznikov you never will find any clues."

Sam's head shot up at that, "You think Reznikov has him?" He asked.

Kort laughed, "You've heard of him too, he's a legend in the Russian underground. Ex-KGB, rumor has it he lost his family after he married a CIA agent and the Kremlin found out,"

"What do you know?" Sam said as they walked into a room with a small camp bed a used blanket and a couple of chairs, he took the one that was occupied earlier by Sergei and waited till Kort took the other and talked.

"For years there had been talk in the CIA and the KGB about the two agents who ignored their training and were sent to kill each other and ended up getting married. Reznikov was high up in the KGB, a Major on his way to becoming a General. No one knows the name of the CIA Agent, but she was sent to kill him and she fell in love, the reason why they have two man teams where possible now." Kort said.

Sam looked at him, but wisely said nothing.

"They married, late 1965 had two children, she turned the Major into a double agent, he helped smuggle people out of Russia and over to America. Early in '74 the Kremlin found out and issued orders for his and his family's arrest."

"Even the children?" Sam asked thinking G was about four then.

Kort nodded, "In those days whole families were sent to the labor camps, there was no discrimination because they were children. Anyway Reznikov got his family out and contacted the CIA to collect them, he had two more families that needed to escape and he stayed to help them go. He was caught trying to cross the border into Romania and was sent to an internment camp in Serbia."

"What about his family?" Sam asked.

"The wife was killed by the Comescu's a crime family in Romania something about a blood feud between them and the mother's family, the kids were sent to America, where I hear they both died."

"Not quite." Sam said.

"Sorry?" Kort asked.

Sam shook his head; it wasn't his story to tell. "So what does he do now?" he asked.

"He is still in hiding, he helps people where he can but there is a price on his head, although the KGB has disbanded the price on his head is still current. It stands at about 5 million dollars." Kort told him. "No one gets away with treason against the Russian government."

"So why didn't he flee?" Sam asked.

Kort shrugged, "Nothing to go to, his family was dead, he stayed behind to get as many people out as possible."

Sam shook his head, "This is going to be bad." He sighed, he looked around the room, there were signs of someone having lain in the bed, and some empty syringes at the side of the bed which he hoped had been full of medication to help Callen and not something else.

"We have to find them before Reznikov kills him that would be a big mistake."

"Why?" Kort sneered, "Because you'd miss your partner?"

Sam slammed him up against a wall, "No! Because Callen  **is**  Reznikov's son!" he yelled, "So if you know where he is TELL ME NOW!"

Kort pushed him off and dusted down his jacket, "Really?"

Sam glared at him, "We have to find him, now."

"Calm down Goliath, I will get hold of my contacts and we will find him." Kort said pulling his phone out and walking outside the building to get a clear signal.

Sam looked at the bed where he was sure Callen had lain, not more than 24 hours ago. "I'm coming G, hold on." He said to himself.

* * *

Callen woke up, his head was groggy and he felt off balance.

He realized he was in a warm room and he was tied to a chair. There was one bright light shining in his face.

"Who are you?" the disembodied voice came again.

"Told you, my name is Callen." He said, he was tired and had had enough of fighting.

"Who told you to use that name?" the man asked.

"No one told me, it's my name, and it was my mother's name." he said.

"You have been briefed well, but you cannot be who you say you are. Who do you work for, CIA….FBI…KGB…?"

Callen laughed, "I was CIA for a while, like my mother…KGB? Never…my father? He was…a major I think…" he was surprised at how much he was talking, "What did you give me?"

"Sodium Pentothal, you are good lying under that."

"No lying, don't have a reason." Callen's head fell forward.

"Who do you work for?" he pressed again. He was getting angry now, he knew all the answers, this kid was hitting all the right buttons and it was annoying him.

"NCIS." Callen sighed, they had kept him awake on the verge of sleep since they had let him down and he was beyond exhausted.

"What's that?" Nikita asked.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," he coughed as he said it.

"I'm not Navy. I have never been in the Navy, what does the American Navy want with me?"

"Who are you?" Callen asked lifting his head up.

"You will answer the questions." He snapped, his Russian clipping his words.

"NCIS isn't looking for anyone, I'm on vacation…I'm…looking for…" He bit his lip, he didn't want to tell this stranger but the pull to talk was tugging at his resolve.

"Who are you looking for?" The man asked.

"Reznikov…Nikita Alexsandr Resnikov…My father." Callen choked out and hung his head defeated.

"You lie…!" Nikita snapped.

Callen let a tear escape, the frustration overwhelming him, "No…I just want to know…." He couldn't keep his eyes open as the drug hit its peak.

"What do you want to know?" Nikita asked his tone softer.

"My name….I want to know my name…" Callen sagged forward the bonds around his wrists biting as he sobbed, "I wanted to find my family, I don't know who you are or what you want…I have nothing for you, I'm just a loser from nowhere who wanted to know his name, I'm not important, I'm not special, I just wanted to have a father and know who I was." He sobbed until his body could sustain him no longer and he passed out.

* * *

Nikita stood up and walked away, his own eyes brimming with tears.

He walked over to where the bag Callen had had with him was placed and he called Sergei over.

"Was there anything in his bag to support what he is saying?" Nikita asked.

Sergei shook his head, "Some random photographs, a driving license in the name of G. Callen, they did a poor job of backstopping him, they didn't even find out your son's first name," Sergei told his friend.

"Let me see." Nikita said

"It's nothing really." Sergei said, "A woman…a girl and a boy."

"Let me see!" He insisted.

Sergei handed the photo's over as Callen groaned.

"Don't touch those…they're mine!" he groaned, "Please…don't take them…they're all I have."

Nikita took the pictures and he sat heavily on a chair.

"Clara…Amelia…Grisha."

He touched the picture reverently.

He walked over to Callen and lifted his head, "Where did you get these?" he asked.

Callen looked at the pictures in the man's hands and fought his bonds, "Give them back!" he yelled.

"Tell me where you got those?" he said holding them out of reach.

"They are mine…I…I got them from Hetty, and Reinhardt…"

"Who?"

"Hetty Lange, my boss…she knew my mother, and a guy called Michael Reinhardt, he watched over me for my father…took pictures, died a few days ago." Callen tried again to free his arms, "Please, they mean nothing to you…They are just pictures, it doesn't matter give them back…They are all I have, of my mother and my sister."

Nikita looked at him and made a decision, he untied the ropes around Callen's wrists and handed him the pictures.

The second Callen took them Nikita knew, this was his son. He clung to the pictures holding them to his chest like a loved one. This was not faked. Nikita walked over to help him up.

Callen flinched holding onto the pictures tighter, "No…no more…please…" he begged.

"Come, sleep moy syn."

"Don't…" Callen shifted away again, "Don't call me your son; I'm not your son."

"You will not be harmed anymore, forgive me." Nikita said.

Callen was exhausted he didn't care anymore. He let his whole guard down and slumped on the bed. Nikita pulled a blanket over him and watched as exhaustion finally claimed him.

* * *

For an hour he sat watching his son sleep.

His son…he was alive!

He wanted to pull him back to consciousness and tell him he was his father and hold him for an eternity. That wasn't going to happen and he knew it, how could he tell the man lying there that the person who had done this to him was the father he was looking for?

"He is so like his mother," Nikita whispered in awe as Sergei walked into the room.

"You believe him?" Sergei asked.

Nikita laughed quietly, "He has the birthmark, on his back I saw it but didn't believe, he has so, so many scars. He has been through so much…and now I nearly kill him." He said his eyes filling with tears.

"You can't stay here, you know that." Sergei said.

Nikita nodded, "I know, I will replace his things and leave him a burn phone from our stock he can call for help with that. There is one thing I can give him," Nikita said taking a piece of paper and writing his name on a piece of paper and putting it in his son's pocket.

He leant over and kissed him on the forehead, "Ya tebya, moy syn."

He stood up as the sound of a car became clearer on the road heading towards the two men.

Nikita stood staring at his son, he took his phone out and took a picture, he knew he would have to delete it later, but for now…

"Nikita…we must go…" Sergei hissed and grabbed their bags.

He stayed for one more second, and then with tears in his eyes he left, leaving Callen unconscious on the cot covered in a blanket holding the photos, tight in his hands even in sleep.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sam and Kort had been following leads all day, finally a contact of Kort's came through and they rushed as fast as they could to an address in downtown Moscow.

Sam stood outside, the building seemed deserted.

"You sure this is the right place?" Sam asked not really trusting Kort or his contacts.

"I was told Reznikov was seen a day ago entering the building, I can't say for certain that he is there now, but we should try." Kort said.

Sam nodded, he checked his weapon again and Kort raised an eyebrow.

"Again?" he asked.

"It's a strange gun, you never know." Sam said holding his weapon at the ready and entering the building.

"Clear," Kort said as he took the first room, Sam walked down the hall, shuddering as a rat ran past him down the corridor.

"Clear." Sam called. The rooms branched off; Sam indicated Kort should go to the left as he went to the right.

"Clear," Kort called.

Sam was beginning to get disheartened he hoped he hadn't missed Callen again.

He heard a scrabbling noise and kicked out as 2 more rats ran out of a room. "Urgh!" he baulked at passing them but entered the room.

"G!" Sam said in relief, he shuddered as he moved his arm at a rat that had climbed onto Callen's chest. "Get off!" he snarled as the rat ran screaming down the hallway.

"G? G!" Sam said shaking his friend awake.

Callen groaned but he couldn't wake up.

"Come on G…" Sam said as Kort entered the room.

"The building's empty" Kort said as he walked in, he looked over to Sam and stopped as he saw him holding Callen lifeless looking body and then Callen groaned, "Bloody hell!" Kort said in surprise, "He's alive?"

"Barely, I need your help." Sam said as he checked Callen's pulse. "Come on G."

Callen coughed.

Kort helped lift him up, "You stay with your partner, I'll see about getting you out of here." He said and walked down the hall.

"Sam?" Callen's voice croaked in surprise.

"Hey G." Sam smiled finally he was calm.

"What…? Why are you here?" Callen was confused; he knew he'd been through a lot, maybe he was hallucinating again.

He stretched his hand out and poked Sam in the shoulder. "Are you here?" he asked.

"I'm really here." Sam gave a small laugh.

"Where is he?" Callen asked.

"Who?" Sam asked confused.

"He had my photos…he took them…they were mine…" Callen looked around and sighed as he realized the photos were actually in his hands.

"He gave them back?" He looked confused but held onto them tighter.

Callen groaned as he phased out again, Sam opened a bottle of water and tried to get him to drink some.

Kort looked at him, "We can't stay here too long, we are going to have to move him." He said.

Sam laid Callen back onto the bed and covered him with a blanket to stop the shivering, "He needs to rest, just for a while."

"No…" Callen groaned and tried to push himself up off the bed, "Need to find him…So close."

"Who are you looking for?" Kort asked.

"Not…an Agent…not now…not…I need…" Callen was delirious, "Need Reznikov…please…not hunting…Callen…I'm Callen, not KGB…" he broke off into a string of incoherent sentences in about five different languages.

"What did they do to him?" Kort looked on amazed, Callen looked broken; however he was still trying to fight the enemy which now wasn't here to hurt him.

Sam shook his head and looked for more blankets to help bring Callen's temperature up with as he was still shaking.

"I don't like the looks of this; he needs to be in a hospital." Sam said looking worriedly at his friend.

"If he is who you say he is, a hospital in Russia is not going to be a stable place, we need to get him out of the country." Kort said knowing that if Callen spoke the name Reznikov in a Russian hospital the authorities would seize him.

* * *

"Hello?" A voice came in English from down a corridor. "Mr. Callen….Hello…!"

Kort and Sam raised their weapons as Callen coughed.

A short balding man came in the door and immediately dropped the bag he was holding and held up his hands. "I mean you no harm, I am here to help someone called Callen?" he said.

"Who are you?" Sam asked leveling his gun at the small man's head.

"I…I am Yuri Datsishin, I am a doctor." He said, Sam looked him up and down he had a doctor's bag, but with a nod to Kort the man was quickly patted down and searched.

"I have no weapons, I am repaying a favor. Nikita Reznikov sent me." He said.

"Why?" Kort asked.

"I do not ask, I was told to keep him alive or I would lose my life." The smaller man said his fear visible, "Please, I have a family, let me treat him, I will not hurt him." He promised.

"Do you know where Reznikov is?" Kort asked.

"I do not know, please I really just have to help Mr. Callen," Datsishin pressed, looking at the man on the bed. "I have been told what Reznikov did to him, I do not want him to do any of that to me if he dies, please let me help him." He begged.

Sam stepped back with a curt nod, "I will be watching." He warned the short man.

Nodding furiously the short man moved to Callen's side and opened his bag, "I will be giving him intravenous fluids and antibiotics, he has hypothermia and I need to check his heart it stopped at least once during his…ordeal." the doctor told them.

"How?" Sam asked worried for his friend.

"Electrocution." Datsishin told them.

Sam shook his head and looked sadly at Callen, "Save him Doc." He said and gave the man room.

Datsishin took the intravenous solution of Saline and looked for somewhere to hang it. "Up there, on the corner of that cabinet, I need you to hang this bag, make sure you do not burst the bag or twist the line up." He said handing the bag to Sam.

Sam reached up and hung the bag with ease. "There ya go Doc."

Yuri nodded, "Thank you," he inserted a canular into Callen's hand and tapped the fluid as it started to go into his arm.

Callen flinched even in his semi-conscious state he could feel the cool liquid flowing up his arm. "No…no more…please…" he begged.

"It is alright Mr. Callen, I'm Yuri, a doctor, I am here to help you."

"It's ok G, he's here to help." Sam said hoping to calm Callen who was trying to pull his IV out.

"No…No more drugs…not lying…" Callen moaned.

"G, it's not drugs, its fluids, you're sick," Sam said. Sam reached over to feel his partner's forehead the same way he did on occasion when his daughter was sick.

Callen leaned into the touch and relaxed, "Sam…Safe…now…" He sighed.

Sam smiled as Callen seemed to relax. "That's good G." he said.

He moved over to a chair and watched as the man threw some heat reflecting blankets over Callen and sat next to him, "It is all up to him now, I will stay until I am sure he is out of danger." He said.

* * *

The doctor busied himself making sure Callen was stable and comfortable and as soon as he was satisfied he walked over to the table and pulled himself out a chair.

Sam looked at the man, "How did you end up owing Reznikov?" he asked out of curiosity. Kort took a seat at the small table they were sitting around as the doctor pulled out a thermos of Coffee and some dark, rye bread and what looked like cottage cheese.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

Both Kort and Sam nodded and the doctor shared his meager meal.

"I was directed to Nikita in the late 1970's, my father was a philosopher, he did not follow the party line, he was a freethinker, he had managed to keep his opinions quiet, his views going out in anonymous flyers that were left around Moscow, but he developed Alzheimer's, and he forgot that he couldn't talk; the KGB were going to arrest him, I had to get him out to my sister in Greece, but he had his papers cancelled, Nikita helped me get him out of the country, he died five years ago healthy and happy in the sun. I owe him for that." Yuri said, getting up to check on Callen's vitals.

Sam watched him, looking again to make sure that he wasn't harming Callen in anyway.

* * *

They had been sitting there for two hours, Callen tossing and turning as his temperature came up and he stabilized.

"Your friend is responding to the antibiotics, his core temperature has come up and he is looking less cyanotic." Yuri said with a slight smile. "This is the first time Reznikov has asked anything of me in repayment, I do not want to let him down."

Kort looked at him, "You do realize this guy is evil, and there is a price on his head from the Kremlin and the CIA? I have orders to shoot Reznikov on sight." he said.

"No…not…evil…" Callen said as he began to stir. "Don't kill him!" tears flowed unchecked from his eyes as he fought his way back to consciousness.

"G?" Sam shot across the room and knelt next to the bed, "Are you with me man?" he asked.

Callen opened his eyes, "I couldn't find him…I had my hands on a file…information…got taken…Sam? Why are you here?"

Sam laughed, "I'm your partner, where else would I be?" he asked Callen.

"Hetty sent you?"

Sam looked at him for a moment and thought about it, Callen didn't need to know right now, "Yeah partner, Hetty sent me, she sent Kort to help too." He told him glaring at Kort who rolled his eye at the blatant lie Sam had come out with.

"You rest G, this is Yuri, he's a doctor, and he's helping you."

"Did you find them Sam, the people who took me…they took my pictures!" Callen suddenly realized and tried to sit upright and was looking around for his pictures.

Sam picked the pictures up off the table, "They're here G, no one has them, and they are safe."

Callen grabbed them and exhaled, whether out of relief that he had his pictures back or out of sheer exhaustion, he would never tell and Sam would never ask.

* * *

Yuri took a fat thermos out of his bag, "My wife made it, Borscht." He said. He poured the hot liquid into a bowl and the smell of the pickled cabbage soup wafted up Callen's nostrils, his stomach rumbled and he realized he hadn't eaten since he was taken.

Yuri got a spoon and walked towards him.

"No!" Callen snapped, "Not safe."

Yuri looked at him, "I can assure you Mr. Callen, my wife does not poison her food, if it will help I will eat some." He took a small sip from the spoon. "There, it is good trust me."

Sam helped Callen up, moving himself so he sat behind his friend and helped him with the borscht, "Take small sips G…That's it." He said encouraging him.

"This is good." Callen said, the effort tiring him out, but he wanted to let the doctor know that he was grateful.

"Where did you find him Sam?" Callen asked.

Sam smiled, "I was really lucky." He replied.

Callen closed his eyes and slept again.

Sam moved over to the table as Kort stood up, "I'm going to get us some supplies, we are obviously going to be here until Callen is fit to travel."

"Thanks Kort." Sam said.

As he reached the door Kort looked at Callen, "You're a good partner Sam." He said, turned and left.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Callen woke as Yuri took his blood pressure.

"I'm fine." He said, indeed he did look a lot better and more coherent.

"You are a lot better Mr. Callen and your friends have brought some food, I suggest you try eating something." Yuri said.

Callen gave a short nod, and slowly tried to stand, Sam moved over to give him his arm and help him to the table.

Callen looked at the food they had to eat. "You shopped Sam?" he asked. "How you don't even speak Russian?"

"I shopped Callen." Kort said coming around the corner.

"Kort! What are you doing here?" Callen asked as Sam helped him sit down.

"I saw you get taken, I was in the café, rang Hetty and let her know." Kort said, "I've been helping Sam ever since, remember I still owed you one Callen, this is it." Kort said as he poured Callen some tea and handed him the mug.

Callen sniffed and then sipped on the beverage, "Thank you."

Kort kept staring at him, but was trying hard not to be noticed.

"What?" Callen asked as he put his cup down.

Kort shook his head, "I just don't understand it, surely during your time with the CIA you heard about the rumors…and yet you tracked him down?"

Callen looked at him a little lost, his gut beginning to churn. "What rumors?" he asked.

"About the CIA Agent who fell in love with a KGB Major and disappeared for 6 years, she was found dead on a beach in Romania and he went missing, for years we thought she had been turned, maybe a double agent, the Russian's thought he'd been turned and sent him to a labor camp in Siberia, they were the 'you don't fall for your mark' warning. Don't you remember?"

Callen grasped the table with his knuckles, yes he remembered, but until now he didn't realize that it was  _ **his**_ parents they had been talking about. But he didn't want to let Kort know that.

"So what happened to him?" Callen asked casually.

"He escaped the labor camp, discovered his wife and children were dead and went on a campaign to take down the KGB, made very powerful enemies."

"Dead?...His children were dead?!" Callen said worry and disbelief in his voice.

Kort nodded, "He has a price on his head, you kept mentioning his name, I think it was him who took you." Kort said.

"KORT!" Sam snapped he hadn't wanted Callen to know that.

"No!" Callen shook his head, "There is no way…he's not like that. He couldn't do….that…I…No?" Callen stood up grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders and walked to the window.

"Mr. Callen, you need to stay calm, you are not well enough yet…" Yuri came over and put a hand on his arm.

Callen grabbed the small man and whirled, throwing him up against the wall, "WHO ARE YOU?" he yelled.

"I told you Mr. Callen, I am Yuri Datsishin, a doctor."

Callen looked at the shaking man and lessened his hold a bit, "Kort is an adequate field medic as is Sam, and neither of them would have called you in why are you here?"

"I am repaying a debt, I was ordered to come and help you, I was ordered to not let you die."

"Ordered by whom?" Callen asked.

"Reznikov, he ordered me to keep you alive." Yuri said.

At the name Callen staggered back, "I thought I was taken by Toli Gorev…a man called Sergei, he was the one…he…not…not  _ **Him**_!" he slumped back on the bed and Sam was with him in an instant.

"G, you don't know it was him…you said that Sergei was the man who tortured you,"

"There was another man, I never saw him, but he was insistent I was a liar, that I wasn't who I said I was…" Callen turned white and vomited into a trash can next to the bed. He wiped his mouth and lay back on the cot, turning away from the others hugging himself around the middle, Sam knew Callen needed his space; he picked up the trash can and motioned the others out of the room.

"He needs time." Sam said to the others.

"I do not understand?" Yuri said, "He cannot get worked up over this, he needs to heal, if he gets too stressed now it could undo all my work."

"I'll watch him doc." Sam said.

"He has vital information Hanna," Kort said, "We need to know where Reznikov is, the CIA want him."

"He doesn't even know where he is?" Sam argued as he closed the door.

* * *

Callen closed his eyes, his heart hurt. He had been here…his father had been here and he had tortured him. He had been so close and surely his father must have known it was him…of course he knew it was him, he sent a doctor, he wouldn't have done that to a random stranger…and he had left.

He couldn't stop the tears that fell, he had found his father and he had left him.

The foster carers had been right, it wasn't his parent's fault it was him!

He had hoped after Hetty had told him about his mother, after he had remembered how she had died, that there was no fault. He had felt better knowing it had been a feud, something out of his hands as a child that he could now control, by killing every Comescu that he could.

But his father?

He had longed to meet him, to hold him and to find out his name, instead he had been hung up by the wrists, injected with truth serum, frozen and electrocuted, he had told his father who he was, instead of the reunion he had hoped for, his father had finally believed him and left him. He didn't want him.

He felt himself break, he wanted to howl aloud, he wanted to curl into a ball and disappear.

However he wasn't going to do that…not yet. There were too many people here.

But something he had learned years ago, something he was good at, crying without making a sound. That he could do and he did, while no one could see him he let as much of the pain and anguish out that he could.

* * *

An hour later he heard the door open a bit.

"You ok G?" Sam asked as he walked in.

Callen nodded not trusting his voice yet.

Sam handed him another drink, "The doc says you need fluids." He said his face full of concern.

"I'm fine Sam." Callen sat up and opened his bag, pulling a clean long sleeved t-shirt out of his bag he quickly slipped it on.

Sam could see his friend was holding back, but he knew better than to push, "We need to be heading back to LA." Sam said, "Kort can arrange a flight out."

"When?" Callen asked.

"Tonight." Sam replied.

Callen shook his head, "I can't make it. You go." He told Sam, he knew that with Kensi in Afghanistan, Deeks was the only one manning the office, "If you don't get back soon Deeks will have swapped all the office chairs for walking stations."

Sam looked at him, this was normal Callen, but not…Something was wrong.

"G…you need to come back with me," Sam said his voice low and even.

"I can't…not yet." Callen couldn't look Sam in the eye, "I need to try, just once more. I need to see that file that Toli Gorev had."

"Hetty wants you back." Sam said, hoping that would change his mind.

Callen sat down, "Maybe you're right," he said sounding defeated.

"Good, I'll go tell Kort." Sam said and left to arrange transport.

* * *

Callen looked out of the window and saw Yuri leaving with his bag; he grabbed his own bag, pulled on his jacket and followed the man he slowed as he heard the voices of Kort and Sam in one room, ducked under the window and carried on down the corridor.

Just as Yuri got to a train station Callen managed to catch up with him.

He stayed out of sight as the train travelled through the center of Moscow to the outer lying district.

Yuri got off the train and walked off the platform towards another small café. Yuri walked in and slipped into a booth.

Callen sat at a darkened booth in the back where he could see, yet not be seen.

Nikita walked in for his daily briefing with the doctor.

"Yuri, my old friend." Nikita said hugging the small man. "How is he?" he asked.

Yuri smiled, "He is nearly healed. Asking questions, he is a lot like his sister was when she was small. He has grown much since I delivered him as a baby." The old man said with a smile.

Nikita nodded, "Does he know…about me?"

Yuri's face turned sad. "He does, it was let slip that it was you who…"

"I didn't know it was him, really him. I thought he was dead! but you saw to it that he is safe and out of danger now?" Nikita searched his friend's face; he would know if Grisha was dead, Yuri had never been that good of a liar.

"I was sent out, I do not know how he reacted to knowing it was you, but physically he is healing, and is out of danger."

"You need to go back, to find out how he feels about me."Nikita implored his friend.

"How about you ask me yourself." Callen said his voice flat and even.

Yuri looked up surprised and Nikita went for his gun.

"Don't." Callen said, "If you wanna shoot me you can later, I want 5 minutes, you owe me that, then you can have your wish and never see me again." He told his father slipping into the booth facing him.

Yuri excused himself and ducked out.

* * *

"It is not my wish." Nikita said.

"I don't care if you don't want to talk to me, you owe me!" Callen rasped, keeping his voice down.

"No…you do not understand, it is not my wish to never see you again, it is not my wish to let you go now." Nikita said.

"You…you nearly killed me and now you want me to believe you want me?" Callen looked at his father, he could see his features in his father, the eyes, the nose, the way his father held his head as he was thinking.

"I was sure you were and agent, undercover come to trick me and hand me over to my enemies." Nikita said.

"I am an agent, like my mother." Callen said

Nikita nodded, "I saw your files, Sergei is very good at getting into people's files." He told his son.

Nikita stared at Callen; he had Clara's eye shape, his coloring. Her mouth which he was sure if his son wasn't scowling would have been a devastating smile. He had his hair, dirty blond, and short and his bearing. This was how they should have met in the first place, he flinched as he thought about how much pain he'd put his son through.

"That wasn't just checking me out, you tortured me father." Callen said.

Nikita looked down, "It has become necessary, I was told you and your sister died, so when you said you were my son but you couldn't tell me your name…"

"I don't know my name." Callen snapped, "I don't know why, but I don't know what the G in my name stands for."

"I did tell you I left your name in your pocket." Nikita said ordering 2 coffee from the man behind the counter, who instantly relaxed and went to get them.

"You're not going to drug me this time?" Callen asked.

"No." Nikita said.

Callen gave a short nod and reached into his pocket.

He pulled out a scrap of paper with the word, 'Гриша' written on it.

Callen stared at it. "That's my name?" he asked trying it over and over in his head. "Grisha."

Nikita nodded "You are named after my little brother; he left Russia for America just after you were born, after the KGB found out about your mother. I believe he has a new name for himself now and he is a successful businessman."

Callen hadn't taken his eyes off the slip of paper, "Come back with me?" he asked.

Nikita shook his head, "I cannot, if I travel I will be picked up at the airport and thrown into jail, I do not have the papers."

"I can get you out!" Callen looked at his father hopefully. "I have friends…"

"Grisha, it is not safe, people are still looking for me, what I did, going against the government in my country, smuggling out people who didn't believe in the communist way of life, I have many enemies from it. If I go to America they will find me and you and you will not be safe."

"But…father, I'm an NCIS agent, I can protect us." Callen argued.

"I am proud of you," Nikita stopped as the server brought them coffee, Nikita sipped his and watched as Callen did the same.

"I love you my son, never forget that."

"I won't but if you come with me…." Callen stopped as the room began to sway, "No…Father please…don't leave me."

His head fell forward and Nikita caught it.

He gently placed Callen's head on the table as the patron walked over, "Nikita, do was dispose of this one too?" he asked.

Nikita shook his head, "No…I will take him myself help me out to the van with him, may I borrow Toli?" he asked the patron.

The man nodded, "My son will be pleased to assist you." He smiled. "TOLI!" he called in a deep baritone voice.

Toli came running through the beads from the back room, "Papa?" he called.

"We need to take Grisha back to his people, be gentle with him," Nikita said.

"Sure thing." Toli carefully carried Callen to the van.

Nikita got in the back with his son, "Take us to the second base." He said.

Toli nodded and started driving as Nikita held his son's head carefully.

* * *

"G's gone!" Sam complained as he walked back into the room he'd left his partner in.

"Well, he'd better be back soon; we have a plane to catch at midnight." Kort moaned "It took me ages to arrange this flight back for you and I'd rather not be on the receiving end of Henrietta's ire if you both don't come back."

Sam couldn't help but grin, "Yeah that wouldn't be pretty, Dammit Kort how in the hell are we going to find him?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, I'll call people, but without being able to give…" Kort stopped as a van pulled up outside.

Sam and Kort ran downstairs guns at the ready.

The door opened and Toli got out.

"Hey tough guy," Toli said with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" Sam snarled.

"I brought you something you've lost." The boy grinned.

Sam raised his gun, "I ain't in the mood boy…" he warned him.

Toli opened the door and they saw Callen being held gently in a man's arms, the man has tears in his eyes but rapidly blinked them back as the door opened.

"You are his partner or friend?" Nikita asked.

Sam nodded, "Both, let him go." He said raising his gun.

"He is unharmed it is just a sedative, he is as strong willed as his dear mother was take him, he should be asleep till morning, take him and go back to America." Nikita said.

Sam looked at him, "Are you his father?" he asked.

Nikita nodded, "Tell him…tell him one day I will find him, when it is safe for both of us, tell him I love him."

"Did you tell him?" Sam asked

Nikita nodded, "I did, Grisha is so lost, be his friend he will need you make sure he knows he is loved and wanted." He pressed.

Sam nodded and he and Kort took Callen from the van.

Callen awoke to a strange rumbling sound; it throbbed through his being like a humming.

"Papa?" Callen asked, he couldn't understand he was finally talking to his father and he fell asleep.

"G?" Sam's voice cut through the ache in his head.

"Sam?" he asked, "Where are we?"

"We're safe pal, on a plane heading for home." Sam said his voice calm.

Callen shot up in his seat trying to shake the cobwebs from his head. "Where is he? Is he here?" he asked looking around the plane, but it was empty, apart from Sam and Callen, the plane was empty.

"Sam! No!" Callen looked distraught, "Why did you take me? Why didn't you make him come?"

"He loves you G…he wants you to know that, but right now you need to be away from him and safe in America. He will come for you and he will find you again,"

Callen slumped into the plush interior of the Lear jet, "I can't lose him again…" he sighed.

"You need to come home G, you need to be able to fight another day, I gave your father our numbers, I told him if he ever needs us to contact us and we will come and get him and bring him home to you."

"We?" Callen said with a small smirk.

Sam smiled, "You're my brother, and I'll always have your back. Somebody has to save your sorry butt."

Callen smiled. "He does love me…I have a father Sam." This knowledge that he had a father, who was alive and loved him, filled him with peace.

"That's good G." Sam replied, knowing Callen would be hurting for a while, but ultimately he would be ok.

Callen looked out of the window at the clouds rushing by below them, "Grisha, Sam…My name is Grisha."

Sam smiled, "Yeah…but I'm still calling you G." he grinned. "Rest, we have time, let's go home G."

Callen laid his head back and smiled, "Grisha," he whispered, finally having a name at last.

 


End file.
